Curse of the Teeny Weeine

Hello again. This is Sarnoga. Come on in. Take a seat and relax. Listen and
relax. That is what you do. You won�t even have to say anything. I�ll do the
talking. That is what I do. Just listen and relax. Close your eyes if you want to.
I am just sitting here typing, though when I record, I will be speaking. But I
always write before I read, and read before I record. I hope you enjoy listening to
my voice. You may be hearing a lot of it over the next few weeks. Or months. Or
longer. I hope you enjoy the sound of my voice. It is the voice that will be
guiding you into trance. It is good that you listen, and learn the sound of my
voice. My voice is the voice that takes you into trance every time you hear it.
What�s that? Yeah, yeah, yeah�that�s what my Grandma said, but it didn�t help her
any.
As you listen to my voice, you find that it takes you into trance. You may not
notice it happening, but then you realize it has happened. Or maybe not. It just
may be that you never notice going into trance, never notice that you are in
trance, but when you start to come out of trance, you notice that you have been
there. I have often wondered how that works. I have heard of people that went into
trance without knowing. Truth is, it is rather common. I�ve heard of people that
only noticed they had been in trance when they came out of it. What I am trying to
sort out is just how did they know? Did they come back with a T-shirt that said,
I�ve been in trance with Sarnoga! Not likely. But I hope if that does start to
happen, that someone sends me my cut of the T-shirt sales.
What many people do not realize is that almost anything can take you into trance.
Of course, knowing that it can happen and being able to make it happen are
different things.
Round and round he goes, and how he does it, nobody knows. I�m sure I�ve heard that
before, and I am trying to figure out where. Nobody knows. Everyone is a little
different. Some react one way when they hear it, some react another way. Why are
people different? Nobody knows, but there is always one in every crowd. Or so I
have heard it said. I am left thinking, One what? Nobody knows. I end up puzzling,
trying to figure out just what or who it is that nobody knows. I ask around, but
nobody knows. And then I see it: dark, black, looking solid and substantial. It
follows, it follows and cannot be shaken, or given the slip, but it fades as the
sun climbs high. Nobody knows where the shadow goes, though I don�t believe it. If
I ever meet nobody, I am going to ask him where the shadow goes, if he knows, and
tells me, then it won�t only be nobody who knows. Kind of odd to know that somebody
thinks that nobody knows where the shadow goes. They used to say that only the
shadow knows, and that is not nobody. So where can you go to get the most reliable
information on the location or destination of a shadow? Who knows? It may be that
only the shadow knows, but what if he is not telling? Will you ask if nobody knows?
Who will you ask if nobody knows? Did you ask who, or did you already ask who? Who
knows? It is possible that who knows and nobody knows, we all know that Michael
knows, and I have heard that nobody can�t keep a secret because Michael knows what
nobody knows so if nobody knows, then Michael knows, so if nobody can�t keep a
secret unless somebody can keep a secret, it would be true that nobody can�t keep a
secret and nobody can keep a secret. But not that anybody can keep a secret. If I
knew a secret, I wouldn�t tell anybody and then nobody would know or would he? And
that�s how it is, when you listen to my voice in trance: nobody knows, but then
nobody knows everything except Michael, nobody knows what Michael knows, and so,
maybe you are trying to determine who knows what and what do I know that you don�t
know.
You know as well as I know, that my voice is the voice of trance, and when you hear
my voice, it takes you down into trance. But who will know? And when you listen to
my voice, maybe nobody will know or maybe not, as my voice takes you down. As you
listen to my voice, it takes you down into trance. And while you are in trance,
every time you are in trance, when my voice takes you into trance, your weenie
starts to shrink. My voice is the voice that leaves you with a teeny weenie, and
who will know that you have such a teeny weenie? They say that only the shadow
knows, but your weenie will soon be too teeny to cast a shadow. Still you come back
to my voice. Hearing my voice makes your weenie teeny. It can be this file, it can
be another. Whatever file it is, listening to my voice gives you a teeny weenie. Or
it may be better to say that my voice makes your weenie teeny. That�s right.
You know why you are here. I know why you are here. You are here because you want
your weenie to be teeny. Or maybe you want your weenie to completely disappear, and
I speak into your ear and into your mind a curse that will be with you always. You
are cursed so that every time you hear my voice, in this file or another, your
balls shrink, as it is spoken in this file. You are cursed so that every time you
hear my voice, in this file or another, your penis continues shrinking, until it is
just a teeny weenie. You love your teeny weenie: so teeny, such a weenie. All the
nerves are still there in your teeny weenie . They are just packed into a smaller
space. The more your weenie shrinks, the more sensitive it becomes. You love the
feel of your teeny weenie. The smaller your weenie becomes, the more concentrated
are the nerve endings. That�s right. A little teeny weenie is much more sensitive
than a big fat cock. So listen and shrink, listen to my voice, and let your weenie
shrink. You stop having erections, your teeny weenie is never hard, it is never
stiff, your weenie is so teeny, that on those rare occasions that it gets a bit
firm, a little harder than usual, nobody would ever think to describe it as being a
hard on, a boner, or even an erection. Your penis shrinks and stays soft. It would
be wrong to call it a cock any more. A cock can get hard, but a penis needs some
size to it, before people call it a cock. When your penis is less than four inches
long, show it to an adult, call it a cock, and hear them laugh. It is too small to
be a cock. A dick, maybe. Maybe a dick. And if it gets hard they might call it a
boner. And your cock shrinks down to a dick, and it keeps getting smaller and
smaller, shorter and shorter, thinner and thinner, your penis becomes too small for
people to think of it as a dick.
When your penis is less than three inches long, show it to an adult, call it a
cock, and hear them laugh. Call it a dick, and the snicker. It is what people
refer� to as just a weenie. On those� rare occasions� that a weenie almost gets
hard,� nobody calls it a hard on. Nobody calls it a boner. A doctor� may call it an
erection. At best, everyone else might say it�s a little stiffy. And you listen to
this file.
You gave up your man sized penis, your cock, for a boy sized dick. And still you
listen. You listen and know, you are trading your boy sized dick and occasional
boner for a weenie, a child sized weenie, with an occasional pathetic stiffy. And
you listen. You listen and know that your child sized weenie is temporary, the
occasional stiffies are short lived phenomena. You willingly relinquish your child
sized weenie for the pleasure of this file. You give it over, letting it shrink,
and it shrinks. You listen, and your weenie shrinks. It shrinks until it is even
smaller than a child size weenie. It is only a teeny weenie. An ordinary weenie
might get an occasional stiffy, but a teeny weenie never gets a stiffy. And you
listen.
As you listen, the curse of this file sinks into your ears, your heart, and your
mind. There it resides forever. Its effects are permanent. Even if you could set
this file aside, the curse is already inside. And the sound of my voice in this
file, or even another, causes the changes to continue. Hearing my voice renews the
curse, and brings all the changes spoken of in this file. As you listen to my
voice, your weenie shrinks. As your weenie shrinks, all the nerves are contained in
a smaller space, closer together, more sensitive. It feels so good. You love your
teeny weenie. It feels so good, playing with your teeny weenie, rubbing it,
squeezing it, getting it excited but never getting stiff. As you become aroused
your weenie shrinks. It gets smaller and softer, your weenie is so teeny that you
can stimulate all the nerves in your weenie at one time. When you play with your
teeny weenie, it gives you an orgasm� and a bit of cum may drip out, as your weenie
gets smaller� and softer, it arouses you. When you are aroused, your weenie becomes
smaller and softer. A normal weenie, a dick or a cock, swells and grows when it is
aroused. But a teeny weenie, like your teeny weenie� does the opposite. As it
becomes aroused it shrinks and shrivels, as it becomes excited, it becomes smaller
and softer. As it becomes smaller, you become aroused. And so your teeny weenie
becomes smaller yet. There is a positive relationship between your arousal and the
shrinking of your teeny weenie: and here you are, listening to my voice. My voice
is the voice of trance. My voice is the voice that makes your weenie so teeny.
As you continue to listen, you must decide: are you ready to listen, are you ready
to follow my instructions and follow my inductions, are you ready to trust, to
surrender? If so, come with me, come with me down into trance. It is easy, so very
easy. You have been there before, in trance. Likely you have been there before with
me. Have you ever followed me down into trance? I have a few favorite places in
trance. But I am always looking for something new. There are new places, new
experiences waiting to be discovered. There are places where one can see out over
vast voids of empty space. Have you ever been there? I have. It is quite an
experience of those who return. Few are ever the same. Some never return. A little
slip, a wrong step, some loose gravel underfoot, and a visitor can unexpectedly
slip into the void. Needless to say, it is a place to which I take very few. It is
a place beyond lost in trance. I once put together a script of an induction that
would lead a listener there, but then thought better of it and never recorded it:
there are too many who might not take it seriously, those who would go for a look,
on a lark, never realizing the perilous path on which they tread. But never fear:
today we will be travelling another direction, on another path. We will be going
deep enough into trance, but for our purpose today, it is unnecessary to travel so
close to the void.
And you listen to my voice, my voice is the voice of trance. You can neither avoid
nor resist it. You must listen. And as you listen, you trance. And as you trance,
your penis shrinks, turning permanently, irrevocably, into a teeny weenie, a little
teeny weenie. All it takes is the sound of my voice to make your weenie teeny.
Smaller, and smaller, and smaller still. And you so love the sexual excitement you
get from playing with your teeny weenie. So exciting, knowing my voice has forever
made your weenie so very teeny. You love playing with your teeny weenie, and
playing with your weenie makes it smaller, softer, it feels so sexy, knowing that
you willingly gave up your man sized penis in exchange for a little teeny weenie,
and your weenie shrinks so small it retracts inside, leaving behind just a small
wrinkled protrusion of skin, like foreskin, as your teeny weenie hides inside, it
looks as though your teeny weenie consists of no more than a quarter inch or so of
protruding foreskin. Of course it is a bit more than that, but it has shrivelled up
so small and so tight that your teeny weenie has pulled back inside your body,
leaving behind only some loose skin. And as your weenie shrinks, so shrinks your
balls.
You listen to my voice, it is irresistible, and deep inside it excites you to
surrender yourself, to give up your manhood. As your balls shrink, and your weenie
becomes so very teeny, your little weenie becomes like that of a 12 year old, and
still you listen. You love to listen to my voice, and play with your shrinking
balls, and your little teeny weenie. You love to play with your little teeny weenie
as you listen to my voice and feel your weenie shrinking even smaller, pulling
further in, becoming so very very teeny, as your little balls shrink away, yet you
never lose your desire to listen to my voice to play with your teeny weenie. You
love to listen to my voice and let it shrink your weenie, so teeny, while you play
with your teeny weenie, your balls become smaller, like those of a ten year old,
they start to pull inside and your scrotum tightens. Your scrotal ligaments
dissolve, and your spermatic cords shorten, causing your balls to retract up
through your inguinal canals.
Every night you sleep, sleep makes your weenie shrink. Your weenie shrinks in your
sleep. Sleep makes your balls shrink. Your balls shrink in your sleep. Each morning
your balls and your weenie are smaller than before. You sleep and your weenie
shrinks. Your weenie shrinks in your sleep. Sleep makes your weenie teeny. You
listen, and my voice shrinks your weenie even smaller, making it very teeny. You
enjoy listening to my voice and pulling on your teeny weenie. And my voice shrinks
your weenie even as you play with it, becoming excited, knowing that your weenie is
shrinking smaller. And smaller. And becoming less, and less, each time you play
with it, but it is still irresistible. And then one day, your weenie is as teeny
as that of an eight year old, and yet you continue to listen and play with your
teeny weenie and my voice has brought the curse of this file into your ears and
into your mind, such a delightful curse, it enthralls and captures you: the curse
of the teeny weenie. Because of this curse, your balls and your weenie shrink when
you hear my voice. Because of this curse, your balls and your weenie shrink when
you play with them. Because of this curse, your balls and your weenie shrink when
you sleep. They shrink so small that they pull back into your body to hide. This
curse resides within you. It causes your balls and weenie to shrink, each time you
play with your nipples. And you LOVE playing with your nipples.
My voice has put this curse within you: in your ears, your heart, and your mind.
The curse of the teeny weenie. At night, in bed, you are driven, compelled to
listen to my voice, compelled to play with your teeny weenie, as you get off
knowing that you have given up your man sized penis and now have a teeny weenie,
smaller than before, a tiny squirt, and you roll over and go to sleep, and sleep
makes your weenie teeny. The nerves are so concentrated now in your teeny weenie
that it is easy to have an orgasm, it happens fairly quickly, few would really call
it jerking off anymore�although perhaps it still is, but your weenie is so teeny,
that it is much more appropriate to think of it as playing with yourself. Just
rubbing and pulling on your little teeny weenie.
While you listen to my voice and feel your weenie shrink, your balls retract, and
your scrotum tightens and shrinks. Your weenie and balls will never be any bigger,
but they are getting smaller. How many fingers can you really get on your teeny
little weenie? If you make a circle with your thumb and two fingers, can you get
two fingers around your teeny little weenie? Perhaps that would be exaggerating.
When you make a ring with your thumb and index finger, is there enough of your
teeny little weenie sticking out to get one finger around it? Maybe yes. Maybe
less. Maybe you can do it this week, but next week, it may be too small. So you
play with your teeny weenie while you can, and listen to my voice as you feel your
balls shrink, your weenie gets smaller, shorter, more hidden, so small, so teeny,
just a small protruding bit of empty foreskin that you can wrap a finger around
that, and open and close the ring made by your finger, massaging the very tip of
your weenie as it pushes in and out of the empty skin, the very tip of the weenie
pushing itself out into the skin when you loosen your finger, and sucking back out
of reach when you tighten your finger. Your weenie is so small and shrunken that it
is like being without a weenie, except that you still play with the foreskin and
the very tip of your weenie and that is enough to give you a teeny weenie orgasm.
As days and weeks pass, your weenie is becoming very teeny. It is your own mind
making it so. When you willingly give in and listen to my voice, willingly giving
in, letting your weenie be made so teeny, so teeny like the teeny little weenie of
a five year old, but it feels so good to listen to my voice and play with your
teeny weenie. You know it is shrinking still, pulling up inside, and you orgasm so
easily and quickly. The nerves have been condensed into so small a weenie, but you
can orgasm several times a day. Your balls have become so small that the amount of
testosterone they produce is too insignificant for you to have an erection. Or even
a stiffy. They are so small that when you have a teeny weenie orgasm, sometimes you
get a small squirt or two: just a drop of cum. Other times, nothing at all comes
out of your teeny weenie, and your balls continue to shrink and pull up inside you,
and your scrotum tightens.
You feel the excitement of know that what my voice is doing is forever. The
excitement of knowing what you are giving up, you are giving up forever, but it is
irresistible, listening to my voice, playing with your teeny weenie, and listening
to my voice, as it shrinks your weenie. It is so pleasurable, so intense, time goes
by, and you continue. Your weenie becomes so very teeny, your balls so small you
seldom notice them, and it feels so good, and it is so good to listen to my voice,
the voice to which you have surrendered, my voice, the voice of trance, the voice
that has taken everything, or almost everything. You feel compelled to play with
your teeny weenie at least twice a day, your tiny balls straining each time to give
up drop of cum and then shrinking even smaller from the effort. You cum so quickly
when you play with your weenie, that often you hold off reaching for your teeny
weenie: it is so teeny. Is it the smallest weenie? Who can say? And when you finish
playing with your weenie, and roll over to fall asleep, you feel a little
excitement, a little pleasure, knowing that sleep shrinks your balls, and your
weenie. In the morning they will be smaller yet.
These days, you play with your nipples for quite some time, listening to my voice
and feeling your weenie shrink, wondering if you will have enough weenie left to
play with and not really caring. Your nipples have become so sensitive, when you
have the time, you play with them for hours. You have given away your manhood and
your penis in exchange for such a teeny weenie and for such sensitive nipples.
Touching your nipples feels so good. Rubbing your nipples is the greatest pleasure
you have ever experienced. You learn to have nipple orgasms. Your body trembling in
pleasure as your weenie shrinks. As you listen to my voice you have multiple nipple
orgasms, dry orgasms, each building the pleasure, the tension, the excitement,
getting you so aroused that you cannot stop. Finally the pleasure is so intense
that you know you must finish, you force yourself to start groping for your little
teeny weenie, and you play with your teeny weenie until you finally have a weenie
orgasm and coax out maybe a drop of fluid, or maybe nothing, but the weenie orgasm
finally drains your energy and lets you sink back and relax, lets you divert your
attention to other activities, or when you are in bed, lets you sleep. You�re
obsessed, you are playing with yourself �so often now, it seems to be consuming
you. Playing with your nipples, as you �listen to my voice, and your weenie
shrinks, playing with your nipples, getting excited, leaving behind your manhood,
knowing you are barely even a boy anymore, having one nipple orgasm after another,
until the tension is too much, and you play with your teeny weenie for a minute or
maybe two and get release, each time you do, your weenie shrinks, your balls shrink
and both retract further back into your body.
When you are naked, it seems you have the genitals of a newborn or none at all.
When you have on a pair of briefs, it seems that there is nothing inside your
underpants. Your balls have retracted so far inside you, and your weenie has become
so teeny that a woman would have a bigger bulge inside her underwear than you do.
But you like it! You love it! Your weenie is so very teeny, and it seems your balls
are gone, but the sexual pleasure has never been better. Playing with your nipples
is so much better. It is like having an extended orgasm that can last 30 minutes or
an hour or even two or three. It could probably last forever, but at a certain
point you become so aroused you have to put an end to it and you reach for your
little teeny weenie. You play with it for a moment or two and finally get release.
Sometimes you still get a drop from your withered balls, but usually it is nothing.
Still, the pleasure is intense and the relief great, and it is still the highlight
or climax of your morning, or your evening, when you wrap a finger around your
teeny weenie and listen to my voice as you play with your weenie. Feel your weenie
becoming insignificant, and then, a moment later you get that burst of pleasure and
release, and lately there has been no cum to make a mess: your balls are dry,
forever dry. Someday you may go looking for them to see how small they have become
or even if you still have balls, someday, but it seems so unimportant, perhaps
tomorrow.
For now, you have had your fun, listened to Sarnoga, as you rubbed your nipples
and finally pulled one hand off your nipples to wrap a finger, if it will fit,
around your teeny weenie. You have that brief blast of pleasure and release, and
know that you must stop playing with yourself for now or you will be at it another
hour. And you realize it is time to give up this pleasure for now. Time to come up.
Time to take your hand out of you pants or out of your underpants or out of
whatever it is covering your teeny weenie. Time to let go of your weenie and stop
molesting your nipples. Time to turn off the sound, to pull away from my voice for
a few hours, to go about some sort of daily business, or if it�s the end of the
day, to roll over and sleep, letting sleep continue the work that my voice started.
And so, you may roll over and fall asleep if it is bed time. If it is daytime for a
few hours or maybe even until bedtime, you may temporarily set aside your obsession
with your nipples, your irresistible urge to play with your teeny weenie, and your
compulsion to listen to my voice. It will all return again, soon enough. And you
know the desire to listen, to rub your nipples, and to play with your teeny weenie
will slowly build and grow. You know it must be attended to at least twice a day,
and your mind needs the pleasure, if your body didn't demand it, your mind would
force you to seek it out. It is such a thrill wrapping a finger around that teeny
little weenie. You know you can only leave it alone for so long. And then, you have
to play with your teeny weenie again. But until then, for a few hours, you are free
to engage in other pursuits. When you are ready, I am here, come on in and listen
again. Until then, this is Sarnoga, signing off.